


Heavy Crown

by sebastian2017



Series: The Weight of a Crown [1]
Category: X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Closeted Character, Drinking, Genosha, M/M, Modern Royalty, One Night Stands
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-17
Updated: 2019-06-17
Packaged: 2020-05-13 18:50:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19257100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sebastian2017/pseuds/sebastian2017
Summary: Most people think being a prince is nothing but extravagant fun, drinking expensive champagne, and having no cares. Erik - or Prince Magnus Joseph Erik of Genosha, Duke of Carrion Cove, second in line to the throne, as he is more widely known - knows better. Being a prince means everything he does must be done in secret or face the scrutinizing eyes of the public.Even sleeping with pretty-eyed science nerds at parties.





	Heavy Crown

**Author's Note:**

> This is for Marvel Bingo 2019 and fills my Royalty square (B4). Enjoy!
> 
> Note: The hyperlinks on the German don't lead anywhere, but if you hover over them, they should show the English translations! 
> 
> CW: Alcohol, sex, closeted character, sort of dubious consent

Sometimes, Erik watches Disney movies. There’s no point to it other than getting frustrated and maybe a bit of a laugh, but he does it anyway. It’s good to be reminded every once in a while of what people imagine when they find out he’s a prince. In the cartoons, it’s always a fun and silly little thing that mostly involves falling in love, looking very cool with a sword, and bursting into spontaneous song. Erik wishes it was anything like that. In reality, he’d lost a great deal of his childhood to state visits, boarding schools, and the constant need to act proper. Erik knows he’s very privileged and should be thankful to have had the sort of upbringing where he’d had just about every material possession one could want, but most days, he would trade all that away for a chance to be normal and forgettable.

 

When he’d left to university in England, Erik had hoped it might be a few years of relative normalcy. After all, England had its own royal family, one that featured in tabloids even more than the Eisenhardts. Perhaps that would be enough to distract everyone around him enough to have a few normal years.

 

As it turns out, the tabloids are perfectly happy to not hound after him in England, but that does nothing to change the fame and money hungry socialites that have always thirsted after Erik’s friendship since he was a child. He can never know if someone’s befriending him because they like him or because they like his title and wealth. It means Erik is mostly a loner and he tends to keep his distance in the few friendships he does have. Anyone in his position would do the same.

 

He does still try to do ‘normal uni things’ on occasion. Currently, he’s brooding in the corner of Emma Frost’s apartment, nursing a beer and bopping his head along to the music, loud enough his bones vibrate along with it. (It’s not exactly normal. His body guards are stationed at all the entrances and he knows one of them had stashed away an NDA in the car, just in case Erik decides to take someone home. It’s still probably the closest to normal he’ll ever get.)

 

He’s starting to weigh the pros and cons of leaving the party early, when someone leans in far too close to his ear and yells, “Electromagnetism!”

 

Erik turns, already glaring at whoever it is. Some obnoxious looking kid in a cardigan, it turns out, who looks too young and innocent to be at one of Emma’s parties. Even if he’d looked like someone Erik might spend time with, being so obvious about recognizing him is an instant disqualifier among the people Erik meets. “Indeed. Which means if you try sneaking a picture for TMZ or something on that iPhone of yours, I’ll crush it into little pieces. So fuck off.”

 

“Sorry, my friend, that was a very rude way to approach,” he agrees, laughing. Instead of turning and getting as far from Erik as possible, like he should, he seems to decide the best course of action is to sling an arm around Erik’s shoulders. This close, Erik notices how he reeks of beer. That explains it. “Too many drinks, I’m afraid. No, no, don’t banish me off. Let’s try this again. I’m Charles Xavier. Pleasure to meet you, Magnus.”

 

“Word of advice: if you’d hoped trying again meant you’d come off less like an annoying fanboy, it helps not to call me by my name before I’ve introduced myself.” Erik rolls his eyes. Not that it’s anything he’s not used to by know, of course.

 

“Oh. Whoops. No, wait, let’s try again. Hello, handsome stranger at Emma Frost’s party. I’m Charles and I’m a mutant. Who might you be?” Charles asks. He grins up at Erik, looking entirely too confident for someone Erik wants to throw in a dungeon. (They don’t actually have dungeons in his residence in Genosha, but most people ask, so Erik’s taken to using them in his threats, anyway.)

 

Charles should be lucky he’s a mutant, or Erik would have been long gone. He’s always had a soft spot for his kind. “Erik. I’m Erik and I have control over electromagnetism. What’s your power, Charles?”

 

“I’m a telepath!” he explains, wiggling his fingers up by his temple.

 

That, at least, explains what he’s doing at this party. Emma makes it a point to befriend every telepath she meets. Erik nods. “Very cool. Don’t go stealing any state secrets from my head.”  

 

“State secrets?” Charles asks, acting surprised. It’s horrible acting, but that’s probably to be expected, considering how drunk Charles seems to be. “Why on Earth would you know state secrets?”

 

Erik rolls his eyes. “Oh, you haven’t heard? I’m the Prince of Genosha. Prince Magnus of the Eisenhardts. My friends call me Erik, though.”

 

“Oh, goodness. What a funny coincidence to run into you at this party, then! You quite changed my life, Prince Erik.” He leans up on Erik more heavily, which Erik decides means he’s had more than enough to drink for tonight, so he chugs the rest of his beer, puts the bottle aside, and then takes Charles’ drink from his hand to finish that for him, as well.

 

“Don’t call me that,” he says, losing the joking air to his voice for a moment. “You don’t sound Genoshan. Please do tell how the prince of a tiny island nation changed your life.”

 

“You were one of the first mutants in the spotlight! God, my mother absolutely _hated_ my mutation when I was a child, but once it came out you were a mutant as well… It was like everything changed! If a prince could be a mutant, so could the darling Xavier son. My sister and I had our lives greatly improved because of it.”

 

Erik sighs. The manifestation of his mutation and its subsequent treatment by the press was a bit of a sore spot. It had been a difficult time for all of them, trying to make sense of what was happening to him and how to control it. Having cameras constantly shoved in his face and reporters begging for interviews hadn’t made it any easier. And for every article praising the Genoshan royal family for their easy acceptance of their son’s mutation, there were at least a dozen more pieces lamenting that the family’s blood was tainted by a mutie.

 

He tries not to remember that period of time too often. Still… At least it had helped some mutants, even if it had made his life a nightmare for a while. “I’m glad to hear it. Mutantkind has it tough enough on the outside world. No need for our homes to be difficult, as well.”

 

“Of course. I’m studying genetics at the moment, actually. I’m hoping to have a career working with mutants,” Charles explains.

 

“Hmm. Better you than humans,” Erik decides.

 

Charles frowns at him. “Oh, come on. Humans aren’t all bad.”

 

Somehow, despite the both of them having had a good deal to drink and the music being loud enough that it was hard to even think, the two of them end up bickering about mutant-human relationships for a while. The good part about the music being so loud is they can yell without attracting too much attention. Eventually, Erik decides this needs to be the sort of discussion had over a cup of tea and when they can actually hear each other.

 

Erik leans down to whisper in Charles’ ear. “Let’s head back to my place? It’s much quieter.”

 

“That sounds like an excellent plan, my friend,” Charles agrees, reaching up to squeeze Erik’s shoulder. “Should we, uh, go fetch your security team?”

 

Erik grimaces. He hates being reminded that he’s never really alone. “Ugh. No. Can you use your powers to make them not notice us? And then we’ll sneak out past them and walk back to my flat. It’s not very far.”

 

Thankfully, Charles just seems to find it like some sort of adventure. “Sure. Just don’t be too loud. I’m a bit drunk _obviously_ and my powers aren’t always at my best when I’ve had a few drinks.”

 

“Don’t worry, staying quiet while slipping past the bodyguards is the first lesson at prince school,” he promises, snorting softly.

 

Charles distracts the guards as promised, just long enough for Erik to get past them so they can walk back to Erik’s flat. It feels almost normal, even if Erik still pulls on a hoodie over his head and keeps a close awareness out for any cameras that might be nearby. If Erik could get nights like this even just every few weeks… His crown might not weigh so heavily on him. It’s a pipe dream, though. Erik accepted that long ago.

 

They continue their good natured bickering while they walk, not yelling quite as often now that they’re outdoors. Erik has quite the temper, but even he can manage to stay calm if it means avoiding bringing attention to themselves. By the time they get to Erik’s apartment, it’s a little past two in the morning and Erik is feeling the best sort of tipsy. This is nice. Close to the sort of night out he’d always imagined normal students might have.

 

Normally, Erik opens his apartment with his keys, to stop people from asking too many questions. He’s not the only mutant with control over metal, but he is the most prominent and using his powers publicly almost always ends with people asking for pictures because ‘my friend/boyfriend/mom/uncle/neighbor/cat will _never_ believe I met a real life _prince_ ’ and ‘oh my god do you have a crown near here and can you put it on for our picture’. Right now, though, it’s late and he’s drunk, so he just waves his hand in front of the lock and lets them both inside. He heads straight for the pantry, hoping to find the blend of Genoshan tea he has stashed away for special occasions, while Charles lingers at the entrance to hang up his coat and take off his shoes.

 

“No flatmates?” he asks.

 

Erik sighs. “No. I sort of wanted to. You know, get the proper experience and all, but as you can imagine the shortlist of people with security clearance and Papa’s blessing to live with me was mostly full of rich wankers and socialites, so I decided to just live on my own.”

 

“ _Papa_ ,” Charles repeats, laughing softly. “That’s… That’s King Jakob, I presume?”

 

“No, I’m secretly the butler’s son and he’s the one I call Papa, congratulations, you’ve uncovered a great Genoshan conspiracy.” He rolls his eyes and winds up taking out a blueberry lavender tea instead. Charles has been nice company so far, but maybe not ‘bring out the Genoshan tea’ nice.

 

“Right. Sorry. That’s… You’re probably very tired of those sort of questions,” Charles apologizes. “It’s fine. We don’t need to talk.”

 

Charles strides over to him and before Erik can even ask how they’re meant to continue their discussion without talking, Charles has him pressed up against the kitchen counter to kiss him. It’s lucky that the tea was in a metal container, or Erik would have dropped it all over the kitchen floor without a doubt.

 

“Fuck, Charles! What are you doing?” Erik exclaims, grabbing Charles by the shoulders and holding him at arms’ length.

 

Charles frowns at him. “Kissing you? So we can stop talking and go have sex? Which I assumed we would, seeing as we both want to?”

 

“We _both_ want to?” he repeats. His voice does _not_ crack as he does. “Stop projecting. Fuck. Both want to. Fuck, Charles. Fuck.”

 

“Hey… Calm down,” Charles says gently, reaching for Erik’s hand and holding his wrist gently. “I’m not usually wrong about these things and you were projecting your interest quite loudly, but if I’m mistaken, I apologize. I’ll get my things and head home. But if I wasn’t mistaken… your interest is very much reciprocated.”

 

“This can’t happen, Charles.” Erik gestures between the two of them. “Besides. I’m not gay.”

 

That’s a lie. Erik has known since he was very young that he’s interested in boys, and he’s probably gay, if he’s honest. But that’s not something he can be. He has the whole world watching and a country to appease. Something like this… Erik can’t do it. He refuses. He’s fooled around with a few men in the past, but mostly, Erik’s tried to nip this in the bud. Sleeping with some pretty boy geneticist he’s only just met is probably the worst idea Erik’s had in a while.

 

Charles, unfortunately, doesn’t seem fazed. “I never said you were. Not that there’s anything wrong with that. But it’s okay. If you really want me to go, I will. I’m sorry for intruding, Erik.”

 

Charles starts to turn away and head for the door, but Erik takes a hold of his hand and holds him in place. “Wait…” he says softly. “No one can know.”

 

“I understand,” Charles says, turning back to him with a triumphant smirk.

 

He leans forward to kiss him again, but Erik steps away, instead going to the door to double check it’s locked and making sure every window in the house has the curtains drawn. When he’s satisfied that he won’t wake up to pictures of his hook up on Twitter, he goes back to Charles, tugging him close once more. Charles starts to tease him about his paranoia, but Erik does quick work of shutting him up with a kiss. He knows he’s paranoid, but in his life, he has to be. He’d like to ignore it for a few hours, pretend he’s just a normal twenty year old and he can sleep with strangers without a care in the world.

 

Erik pulls Charles to his bedroom, closing the door behind them for good measure. Their previous uncertainty seems to not bother Charles in the slightest, as he continues like they’d never stopped in the first place. Some combination of alcohol, fear, and arousal leaves his thinking slow and hazy, making it seem like one moment he’s standing at the door and the next he’s laid down on the bed with Charles between his legs. In the end, they’re both too drunk to coordinate very well, but they manage to get their clothes off and it only takes a minute or two of fumbling through his drawers for Erik to find some lube.

 

Neither of them actually wants to wait much longer, so Erik ends up with a mess of lube and Charles’ cock between his thighs. It’s messy and entirely undignified, but Erik cares very little about that right now. He just cares about keeping his legs snug and closed for Charles’ and Charles’ lips along the back of his neck and Charles’ steady weight atop him and how relieving it is to break the rules for a while with Charles. He’s almost disappointed when Charles comes and reaches for Erik’s cock to jerk him off as well, because it means his small allowance of freedom is drawing to a close.

 

But Erik doesn’t want to think about that right now. Right now, he’s content to just lay there with Charles on top of him, their semen drying uncomfortably beneath him, and not talking at all. In fac, Erik might be happy to do this all the way until morning, when he can make tea and breakfast and pretend he and Charles are having a normal morning after. That’s the plan, at least, until there’s a rough knock at his door and Erik hears the unmistakable Genoshan accented German that would normally make Erik quite happy to hear home, but here in England tends to come only from his bodyguards and sets his nerves on high.

 

“[Eure Hoheit? Sind Sie da](x)?”

 

“Fuck,” Erik mumbles, getting out from underneath Charles and grabbing his bedsheets to wipe come off his stomach. He pulls Charles in to whisper, lest he be overheard, “Go in the closet and be quiet, okay?”

 

Erik shoves Charles’ clothes at him and pushes him into the closet, closing the door and locking it up behind him. His bed’s a mess and it smells like sex, but there’s not much Erik can do about that except pull up his comforter to cover the wet spot and pull on a t-shirt and boxers to cover his still sticky stomach. He pauses in front of his mirror, messing up his hair a bit more in hopes that it might look like he was sleeping and not fucking. It’s not very convincing, but it’s better than nothing. Erik opens the door just enough to lean his head and shoulders out and gives his bodyguard a terribly unimpressed look.

 

“[Was wollen Sie](x)?” he asks, like he doesn’t know perfectly well how many regulations he’s broken.

 

His bodyguard - Erik is pretty sure this one is Johann, but they all blend together after a while - peers into Erik’s bedroom with a frown. “[Sie sind aus der Party allein gegangen](x).”

 

“[Ja. Wieso](x)?” Erik shrugs.

 

“[Prinz Magnus](x)!” Johann sighs, frustrated, and gives up his attempts to get inside Erik’s bedroom. “[Wie sollen meine Kollegen und ich](x) [Ihr schützen](x), [wenn Sie sich immer wie ein Kind benehmen](x)?”

 

“[Ruf morgen meine Mutter an](x). [Vielleicht kann sie eine bessere Arbeit für dich finden](x). [Tschüss](x), Johann.” Erik closes the door after that, fusing the lock so it can’t be open by anyone but him without doing considerable damage. He fuses shut the windows as well, just in case, and goes to sit for a moment, just long enough for Johann to go back to his post outside the front door, so he won’t have to hear him mumbling anymore about how Erik’s always been the brat of the family and darling Ruth was never this difficult to guard. All Erik wants is the occasional normal day, without having to worry about what the Genoshan press might think. That’s not so unreasonable and bratty a request, is it?

 

He opens his closet door once more, finding Charles slumped against one of the walls and fast asleep. Erik rolls his eyes, not finding it in himself to be as annoyed as he probably should be. So much for sneaking Charles out tonight. Erik helps him over to the bed and gets him settled, far away from the wet spot. (Erik is at least a little thankful for extravagantly large beds now.) He wets a hand towel and does quick work of wiping down himself and Charles. He’s very tired and very tipsy and very frustrated and wants nothing more than to go to bed and fall asleep, but he knows he’ll appreciate this in the morning.

 

Charles stirs a bit as Erik cleans him off and grins up at him, goofy and far too charming for his own good. “Handled your little prince-ly crisis?” he asks, sleepily mumbled.

 

“As much as one can. You’ll need to sneak out in the morning, okay? Use your powers so they don’t see you,” Erik said, getting into bed behind Charles.

 

Charles chuckles, pulling one of Erik’s arms over his waist. “Successfully sneaking out of the flats of people I shouldn’t have slept with is my other mutation, don’t you worry.”

 

“Of course it is.” Erik rolls his eyes. “And I meant it. No one can ever know about this.”

 

Charles just snores in response, obviously faked, and Erik decides not to worry about it too much. There’s no turning back time now. (There probably is some way to do it, but Erik isn’t going to hunt after a time altering mutant because he’d made questionable one night stand choices.) The next morning, he wakes before Charles and makes himself at least a bit presentable, so Charles can take home a mental image of him that isn’t entirely drunk, debauched, and dirty. He unfuses the doors and windows, allowing Charles to leave after they’ve shared a quiet cup of tea, and lets Charles handle the rest with his own powers. (Though he does make sure every crosswalk Charles goes to within his range is green for pedestrians. Allegedly so he’s farther from his bodyguards that much faster, but really, because Erik can’t think of anything else nice to do.)

 

It’s not until early afternoon, when the hangover has faded and he’s hung up from a phone call with his parents about not being rude to his security detail that Erik notices Charles’ left behind a note on the nightstand. After reading it, he’s suddenly very thankful he’d looked presentable this morning.

 

_Erik,_

_I don’t mind keeping secrets. Or being one. I added my number to your phone while you showered. Give me a call if you’d like._

_-C_

  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> There will be a sequel to this!
> 
> for questions, prompts, or chatting I can be found on tumblr at [sebbym17](http://sebbym17.tumblr.com/)

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Electromagnetism!! (Remix of Heavy Crown)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19459228) by [Butterynutjob](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Butterynutjob/pseuds/Butterynutjob)
  * [Too Old for Fairytales (Heavy Crown remix)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19735555) by [brawlingdiscontent](https://archiveofourown.org/users/brawlingdiscontent/pseuds/brawlingdiscontent)




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